Under Your Spell
by Sherringford Holmes
Summary: A little story or interlude inspired by the wonderful Stacy Harris's own character called Jacklyn Clockson. The morning after the night before. Just a little drabble. Please read and review all you wonderful people! A few sexual references. So you know.


Jacklyn Clockson opened her eyes; her vision was blurry and rather unfocused. It took a second for her to get her bearings; she was in bed, _a bed_, but not _her bed_. Then it struck her. Last night, one of the best nights of her life, another loving night with her boyfriend, Jim Moriarty, consulting criminal to all those who do bad, and bad was what Jacklyn liked. Nice was over-rated; it was for the weak and narrow-minded. Nice was boring. Nice was boring. Nice was a waste of life. Bad, however, had a different agenda. It revelled in the adrenaline rush that it caused and it seemed to have a hook on Jacklyn, who, from meeting Jim, was completely besotted with himself and immoral deeds. Somehow she'd gone from a waitress. An average Londoner, a person, just a random public member that had nothing exciting or amazing in her life, nothing extraordinary to happen in the future, no career in anything major. She was just like everyone else, well, that's what everyone else _thought._ That was a façade, the real Jacklyn wasn't like the good natured waitress that she played so well, she was a witch with a dark heart. Blighted by the beauty of bad she became the black rose that Moriarty had treasured so well. Keeping her constantly happy with affection, treating her accordingly and making sure that she knew she was loved. That's how he ended up with some of her powers. Powers that they now shared and thrived on as a couple, power's that kept the world's only consulting detective at bay from the duo that were so deeply in love. Love is a dangerous game at best. Throw an appreciation of malice, revenge and general evilness in and that is a relationship that could explode with hatred or fuse into an explosion of a super-strength bond between two people.

But anyway, let's say that this relationship between James Moriarty and Jacklyn Clockson had more love than most relationships, because they shared that passion of _revenge_ and _delinquency_.

Jacklyn was looked over to her bed partner and saw hi peaceful face. He looked entirely _gorgeous_ in Jacklyn's opinion. Absolutely _delectable_.

She reached over, to thread her fingers through his jet hair. That silky, beautiful hair that Jacklyn had caressed last night so well, her veins burning with passion, being equally matched with Jim's passion as they burnt through the night, magical sparks exploding from their skin, bouncing off the walls, lighting their faces as they made love. She rubbed her fingers through it, her thumb rubbing his forehead as her other fingers laced themselves into his ink strands. His expression changed as he began to wake, a soft smile caressed itself onto his face, and it made him look even more handsome. His eyes began to open to treat Jacklyn with a full view of his chocolate eyes. Eyes so warm they could burn her skin into cinders, they make her feel like he was burning his way into her soul, a soul that now belonged to him, as his soul belonged to her.

"Morning," he said, his Irish tone making Jacklyn shiver in delight

"Good morning," she replied softly, her fingers still entwining themselves into his hair, James closed his eyes as he let himself enjoy the caressing feeling that Jacklyn was giving him.

"Last night," he started quietly "was one of the best nights of my existence. Never has anyone made me feel that good, my dear, no-one. I've been loved but never in the way you made me feel last night. It was wonderful. Thank you."

He opened his eyes as he said his gratitude to her and she felt herself blush. She knew that it was her turn to speak.

"I can't quite believe how loved I feel now," she said, her voice small and shy "before, I felt like our relationship was at its best, now, I can't quite believe I could be loved so much, you're far too beautiful for me," she traced her hand on his collarbones, making him sigh in contentment, his eyes closing automatically "you're so wonderful," she said tracing them lower "so _devious_," she said, tracing his fingers even lower onto his chest, tracing the outline of his ribs, her hand going under the sheets of the bed. James' eyes snapped open, they filled with lust, they had darkened within seconds and he looked at her the way a predator looked at prey, and she_ loved _that look, it made her feel so innocent. Her face split into a huge smile and she pushed her lips on Jims, claiming them for her own. They had a lot of time and they both lost each other in each other's bodies.

An hour later, after a change of sides on the bed, James broke their passion love kiss and rolled off her onto the other side of the bed. Jacklyn hid herself up to her neck under the covers once more and rested her head on his chest, her normally pale cheeks were red and flushed from the hours activity, as were James'. He closed his eyes, completely happy, ready for sleep to take him for its own.

"Oi!" Jacklyn murmured into the skin on his ribs, making him feel her lips moving on his skin, making him shiver visibly to which Jacklyn smiled happily, revelling in the power she had on him "where do you think you're going?" she continued, making her hand in the shape of a spider and crawling up his chest, her nails scraping at the clammy skin to which had just been pressed against her. James opened his eyes irritably and looked down at her.

"I didn't realise you were so insatiable, my love," he replied cheekily

"Says you!" Jacklyn replied, astounded and amused "I think you're the one who was begging me 'More! More! Please Jac, I _need you!_'" she laughed evilly as she ran one fingernail down the middle of his chest, erupting more shivers and goosebumps. Her green eyes lighting up in glee, she pouted and pushed her swollen lips once more to his skin "I didn't realise that you were such an old man! One time and your asleep, you weren't like this last night, you were very _up _[she paused, shortly, kissing a rip for every word] _for _[pause, kiss]_ it _[kiss]_,"_ she grinned happily.

"Get up," he said dangerously, his eyes were burning with threat

"What?" Jacklyn answered, her eyes narrowed suspiciously

"Get up, my love," he repeated, the danger slightly ebbing from his voice

Jacklyn shot a confused look at him and then did what he said, letting the duvet drop from her body, she walked into the en-suite bathroom, re-appearing dressed in a black dressing gown that flowed to her ankles.

"Just so you know. Being bossed around isn't something that I find attractive," she stated seriously, then letting a soft smile invade her face.

"The wardrobe, open the doors, I have a present for you," he replied, his voice gravelled slightly from use.

Jacklyn smiled slightly and then walked, well, more _strutted_ over to the wardrobe. When she was about two foot away she turned to James.

"What is it?" she said

"Open the doors," he said quietly

She had no intention of opening them herself she raised her hand and clicked her fingers. The doors ripped from the wardrobe and fell onto the floor with two, booming _thud!'_s. James smiled affectionately at his lovers' audacity as she spun on the spot dramatically and looked at the interior of the wardrobe. There, in the middle of the wardrobe, hanging, completely pristine and in a clear bad was a black, tailor made, Vivian Westwood suit dress. Its black three quarter length sleeves, its rounded neck with intricate black lace which spread up to the neck, the pencil skirt part which looked perfect for Jacklyn's curves. She almost cried when she saw it.

"For me?" she whispered, turning to him as he sat up, his back resting on the headboard, he nodded, a smile on his face at the happiness he was bringing to her.

"Try it on?" he asked to which Jacklyn nodded furiously, she moved into the bathroom and showered incredibly quickly, she put her underwear on and unzipped the bag which held the dress and she unzipped the back of the dress, she slid into it and walked over to the bed.

"Do me up?" she asked suggestively as she turned away to let him have access to the zip.

James ran a finger from the base of her neck down her body to the small of her back; it was Jacklyn's turn to shiver. He grasped the zip and pulled up. The dress fitted like it was made for her body, it highlighted all her good aspects and covered up the negative parts, even though in James' mind there was no part of her that wasn't _perfect_. She turned to face him, the dress made her look beautiful, more beautiful. It made her green eyes shine even more; her kiss laced lips were red and made it look even better, even more sexier in James' opinion, he stood up, letting the covers fall off him too, she smirked slightly and blushed as he stretched his arms above him and yawned, he caught her in a breath-taking kiss and then walked into the bathroom, leaving her slightly glass eyed and mind numbed by the passion of the kiss. She sat down on the bed and thought about how wonderful her life was now she had James Moriarty wrapped around her little finger.

James' reappeared five minutes later, a towel wrapped his waist and water droplets caught in his hair, lighting up in the morning sun like diamonds caught in the hair of a god. He smiled at her and made his way over to the Chester draws and fished out a pair of pants and a pair of socks, he then walked over to the wardrobe [stepping over the-used-to be doors] and pulled out his own Westwood suit and continued to put it on meticulously. All the while Jacklyn was watching him with extreme detail. As he was finishing getting changed he had one sock and shoe on, he reached over to the other sock and, to his surprise, it wriggled away ever so slightly, and he smiled and turned to his lover.

"Do you mind?" he said, the smile increased even more.

"Not particularly," Jacklyn answered, returning the smile

He bent back down to pick the sock up but, yet again, it wriggled away. He decided to play along. Once again, he reached out for the sock and again it wriggled away. What he hadn't noticed was Jacklyn moving off the bed and standing in front of him, she reached down and laid her hand onto the floor and let the sock wriggled onto her palm and up her arm, she reached with her other hand and picked the sock off and crushed it in her hand, the knuckles of her hand making her skin turn white in protest, with that the sock stopped wriggling; James knew she killed whatever spell she had incanted on it. She opened her palm and held it up as an offering; he took it, winking at her at the same time, she smiled weakly and sat next to him as he pulled the sock on and then his shoe. They both then stood up and walked to the double mirror on the wall, their reflections smiling at them as they looked at each other.

"On with the next Act?"

"Of course, my dear, _all the world's a stage_, my sweet"


End file.
